


Reptile Camp

by wordswehavesaid



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Minor Angst, West family feels, mostly just feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I went to reptile camp when I was twelve."<br/>"I know. I paid for it."<br/>(Barry Allen and Joe West, The Flash Season 0)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reptile Camp

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally posted on [tumblr]() as a gift for [SwiftEmera](). But really, all you need to know is that this is based off some background in The Flash Season 0 comic involving Barry going to some reptile camp that Joe paid for. Thus, time for everyone's favorite - Joe and Barry feels! Enjoy!

It’s been nearly a year since Joe West became not just a single parent, but a foster parent as well. One _long_ , turbulent year that he that’s tested this odd little family’s mettle time and again, and for once he’s glad for summer vacation. He needs a break. His kids need a break. He’s put in a request with the Captain for some time off next month and maybe they can all just get out of Central City for a much needed vacation. Iris always begs him to take her to the beach and he can’t imagine Barry will say no to that. Barry’s even worse than him at saying no to anything Iris wants.

Which probably explains how his little girl weasels her way into hosting a slumber party the first night that school’s over. It’s her and about four of the neighborhood girls, at least by the noise they’re making. Joe’s doing his best to stay out of it, filling out some reports at the kitchen table while waiting for the pizza to get here. Barry’s nowhere to be seen; these are exclusively Iris’ friends, it seems.

Iris is still helpfully by his elbow when the pizza guy rings the doorbell, and he doesn’t even get to touch the boxes as she whisks them back to the living room. Sharing a grimace with the delivery man, he just takes out his wallet.

“Eww!” He hears from one of the girls after he’s shut the door. “What’s on this one?”

“Oh, that’s Barry’s pizza,” answers Iris matter-of-factly. “He always gets weird toppings.”

“Not weird, baby, just different,” he chides, having entered the room. “I’ll take that one, girls.”

Iris is the one to pass it over, and she seems to have realized her mistake. “Sorry, dad.”

“That’s ok.”

But once he’s turned the corner for the stairs, his ears pick up a different voice. “He _is_ weird.”

“Is he actually here?”

“Well sure,” says Iris. “He lives here.”

“I don’t know how you stand it, Iris,” comments the first girl. “I wouldn’t want Barry Allen staying in my house. He’s the biggest loser in our grade!”

“The _school_ ,” insists another. “Tony Woodward’s always making him cry.”

“Tony Woodward’s a big bully!” Iris practically flares up in defense of her best friend, and Joe’s fiercely proud of that. He’s torn, wanting to head right back in there and say a few things about respectfulness in other peoples’ homes, yet knowing in his heart that fighting this for his kids might just make things worse.

“But Barry Allen’s dad’s a murderer, my mom says so,” one girl reminds in a hushed tone that almost carries more. “She wasn’t gonna let me come tonight cause she doesn’t want me around him.”

And that right there is where it’s crossed a line. He turns—but a sound on the second floor makes him stop dead in his tracks. The sound of a door snapping shut. Oh his poor kid.

Recognizing what’s far more important right now, Joe heads up the stairs, stopping outside Barry’s room. He knocks lightly. “Barry, open up.”

“No.” It sounds muffled, and he thinks from more than just the inch or so of wood serving as a barrier.

“I got pizza.”

“Don’t want any.”

“Really? Cause it’s pepperoni, olives, and jalapeños. Your favorite,” he coaxes.

“No it’s not,” he hears after a beat of silence. “Those are weird toppings.”

“Different,” he corrects again.

“Same thing.”

Joe heaves a sigh. “Barry, I’m not letting you go to bed hungry.” He’d learned after a couple bed-without-supper punishments for those initial attempts to run away—and thank God those have stopped—the poor kid’s nightmares would be even worse.

And maybe the boy realizes that he also can’t seem to go to bed without Joe, because after a moment he hears footsteps shuffle to the door. It opens barely a centimeter, but he can still see the kid’s reddened cheeks and the wet sheen to his eyes.

“I’m not crying,” Barry insists, though his voice cracks on the last word.

“Oh Bear,” Joe breathes. “Come here.” He’s let into the room and spares only a second to set the pizza box on the desk before wrapping his son up in a hug. He pretends not to notice the tears leaking into his shirtfront, instead focusing on rubbing circles in Barry’s back and telling him, “You know you shouldn’t listen to those girls, right? They’re only saying those things cause of what they’ve heard.”

“Y-yeah, from _everybody else_ , Joe,” Barry replies, shoulders shaking badly. “Everybody’s like that at- at school, about my dad, about me—I h-hate it!” The continued chatter and giggles rising up the stairs tells him that no one else can hear Barry’s outburst, and he’s especially glad for that when his kid states, “I don’t wanna go back next year.”

Joe knows he’s got to do some fast damage control. So he pulls back a little—something tugging tight at his heartstrings when Barry tries to follow—to look him in the eye. “You, not want to go to school? You love school, Barry, you love learning. And Iris would be pretty lonely without you there, wouldn’t she?”

Barry considers that, but then frowns stubbornly. “She’s got other friends.”

“Well who’s her best friend, hm? Think we both know the answer to that.” Barry doesn’t say anything back, but his shoulders lift out of their slump slightly. “Don’t listen to those other kids, Bear. And don’t you let them take away the things you love, either, doesn’t matter how different they are.” He goes down on a knee to meet the kid eye to eye and takes a firm hold of his shoulders. “Cause it’s the differences that make you _you,_ Barry. And that’s what we love about you.”

He’s nearly knocked onto his back with the force of Barry flinging his skinny little arms around him in a hug, but Joe holds on tight, remembering the days not too long ago when this kid would squirm out of his embrace or outright refuse any physical comfort. He’s grateful that they’ve reached this point where Barry knows he can turn to him.

By the time he gets the boy calmed down the pizza’s half cold, but they eat it anyway and he considers it a victory that he gets Barry to eat three whole pieces. Joe lets him skip brushing his teeth, considering the miserable looks he keeps shooting at the door whenever the sleepover gets loud enough to be heard. And despite the occasional sniffle into his pillow, Barry’s quick to fall asleep that night, though Joe lingers in his chair by the bed a little while after, combing a hand through his kid’s hair and wondering not for the first time—or the last—why the world was determined to be so cruel to someone so innocent, so bright.

As usual, he doesn’t have an answer, so with a sigh he finally rises and leaves the room, crossing to the staircase. “Lights out, girls. Bedtime.”

A chorus of oks followed by giggles meet him, and he resolves to check on them again in fifteen minutes. He also resolves to never host one of these wretched things again.

But Iris, perhaps in way of apology, declares the next night that she and Barry are having their own sleepover in her room, and the two look like they’re having so much fun he completely suspends their bedtime for once. Joe prays that’ll be the end of all the drama in this house until at least the next school year, and looks forward again to a quieter summer.

He’s unaware how quiet it may turn out to be until Barry approaches him one afternoon with a science magazine clutched in his hands, one of those publications that ought to be several read levels above him. “Hey Joe?”

“Yeah, Bear?”

“There’s an ad in my magazine for a summer camp. You get to study real reptiles in their natural habitats and learn all about them. It sounds really cool.”

“Reptile camp, huh? Alright, let me see.” He hadn’t really pegged Barry before as a snakes and bugs kind of boy, but it’s not all that surprising. The kid seemingly has an interest in everything science. Perusing the ad, he can’t help a low whistle when he gets to the price listed.

“I can do more chores. For allowance.” Barry’s been watching him intently and clearly knows just what he’s looking at. “I’ll mow Mrs. Isley’s lawn—I’ll mow everybody’s lawn!”

Joe sets down the magazine. “Barry, why do you want to go to reptile camp so bad?”

“Because, it’s for kids who love science and learning,” Barry recites, and a quick glance at the ad tells him where he got it from. “I like those things. You said so.”

“I did,” he acknowledges.

“And there’ll be other kids there who love science. They’ll be different just like me,” Barry continues that train of logic, a hopeful light in his eyes.

“Well, not _just_ like you, Barry,” he tries gently to correct, not quite liking where that’s going. “That’s the point.”

“I know,” the kid agrees, a bit too quickly. “So can I go?”

Joe sighs. He knows it must be hard for Barry at school with both his past and his preference for academics over sports making him stand out, and not in good ways. A chance to get away from all that and be around more like-minded kids might be good for him.

So he rips the form out of the magazine and says, “Alright. Go get my checkbook.” Barry’s a bit longer than he should be, though the reason behind that is evident when he returns both with Joe’s checkbook and his piggybank.

“I know I have at _least_ fifty dollars in here,” Barry informs him, pushing it across the table at him.

Joe pushes it right back. “Yeah? Well that’s fifty dollars you’re going to keep.”

Barry’s eyes go wide and a little pink rises in his cheeks. “Thanks, Joe,” he practically squeaks.

“I don’t need thanks, I just need you to have a good time at this thing,” he dismisses. “You really want to go to reptile camp?”

“I really wanna go to reptile camp.”

“Then ok.” He writes the check.

Iris is bouncing up and down in the passenger seat three weeks later, all the way to the airport. Joe lets her, seeing as he’s sharing in her happy, energized mood. For so long it’s been him and his daughter in their house, and that had had to be enough. Then Barry Allen had come to live with them for nearly a year now, and as soon as he’s gone for barely a month the place seems empty.

But today they’re picking the boy up and their makeshift family will be all together again. Joe’s missed his kid, though he’s also anxious to hear how things at the camp went. After all, this was supposed to be a nice getaway for him. He hopes for once something’s gone well for Barry.

They’re at the gate waiting with other friends, family, and loved ones for the arrivals. Iris is impatiently craning her neck and trying to peer around people, but Joe knows the minute she spots her best friend from the sharp tug on his hand.

“Dad, is _that_ Bear?”

It is, but he understands her surprise. The kid coming towards them has a thinner face, not as rounded by baby fat, and is a good bit taller than the Barry thy watched board the plane, as evidenced by the jeans that now stop just above his skinny ankles. That’s more shopping Joe has to look forward to now. His kids are growing up on him.

The beaming smile he’s wearing as he accepts tight hugs from first Iris then Joe is all Barry, though, and once they’ve got his luggage he starts brimming with stories and facts. He mentions one or two kids by name, the most notable example being a Larissa Diaz. “She says her dad’s going to get her a komodo dragon!”

“Really?” Gasps Iris in the backseat with Barry.

He catches a set of excited, even hopeful eyes in the rearview mirror. “No dragons in the house.”

“Yes, Joe.”

Overall, this reptile camp seems to have been just the break his son needed from Central City, even if it didn’t result in any long-lasting friendships, and so Joe’s satisfied now to let the rest of the summer continue like normal. He’s reading the paper on the back porch one morning while Barry gives Iris some much-needed assistance with the gardening. She doesn’t quite have her mom’s green thumb, though he supposes that’s his side of the family to blame.

A sudden shriek rents the air. “Dad! Barry found a snake and he’s trying to catch it!”

“ _What_?” Joe rockets up from his chair faster than when he gets a call to the field from his desk at the precinct.

“Iris, shh, you’re going to scare it away—hey!” Barry’s clearly not expecting it when Joe lifts him bodily away from the garden, but he soon starts wriggling to get loose like a snake might. He thinks he sees the actual lizard slither away to safety through the grass, but he’s far too preoccupied with his kids to care.

“Back on the porch, baby,” he instructs to Iris, ushering her along ahead of them. “Barry, don’t fight me on this.”

“It was just a garter snake, Joe, they’re basically harmless,” the kid still tries to insist.

“Uh-huh, basically harmless. You gonna tell me they can’t still bite?” They’re all gathered on the porch now and he sets Barry onto his feet, Barry who casts a mulish gaze to the side and doesn’t answer. “Why were you trying to catch the snake, son?”

“I just wanted to study it. For a couple days, maybe,” his boy says. “I learned how to take care of one.”

Oh no. That’s a dangerous train of thought right there. His mind conjures up images of a little fanged monster in a tank coiled to spring on his unsuspecting kid as he opens the lid. There is no way.

So he does his best to ignore the pleading look he’s being fixed with and issues the degree, “No snakes in the house.”

“Yes, Joe.”

Barry’s banned from messing around in the garden unsupervised after that, and as a result Iris neglects it in favor of spending time with her friend either in the front yard or indoors. The flowers wilt but his kids are mercifully unharmed. Joe doesn’t pay it any mind.

Once or twice, Barry will tentatively approach him about this or that lizard and how he could keep it up in his room and it wouldn’t be a bother to anybody.  Exasperated, but willing to compromise, Joe makes an offer. “Fish, Barry, what about fish? They’re harmless, you feed them once a day or so, you know how to take care of those.” He remembers a little aquarium being one of the things they’d cleared out of the kid’s room even, back at the Allen house.

But Barry’s eyes go wide and his face turns white as a sheet while his head shakes rapidly. “I don’t want fish.”

Joe heaves a sigh. “Then maybe we ought to forget the whole pets thing, ok? You and Iris are going to be starting school again soon, you’re going to be pretty busy.”

Barry looks crushed, but Joe reasons it’ll be for the best in the end. This reptile craze can’t last forever, after all.

The summer’s gone as quickly as it came, and for the last week or so the only things Joe is asked for are school supplies. It sounds like it’ll be a challenging year; algebra, ancient history, and biology are all part of the upcoming course load. It certainly feels like they’re transitioning for elementary to middle school.

Perhaps it’s that mentality that has Barry coming up to him after dinner the evening before they’re due to start again and telling him, “Joe, I can go to bed by myself tonight.”

He looks down at the boy with concern. “You sure, kiddo?”

Barry hesitates, then nods with determination. “Yeah. I was ok at camp. I mean, there were other kids, too, but I’ll be ok.”

“Alright.” Before his son can get away, though, he pulls him into a hug. “Goodnight, Bear.”

“Night, Joe,” is mumbled into his chest.

School gets off to an uneventful start. A week in and things are quiet in the house on his day off. With little else to do, Joe decides he might as well tidy up the place. And it might be due to the stillness in the air around him, but as he finishes up with the first floor and moves to the second he swears he hears a _thrumming_ noise coming from Barry’s room. Which he hasn’t been in for a week.

Slowly, Joe pushes the door open—and then his jaw drops.

There is a tank, an honest to God aquarium _tank_ , taking up most of the kids desk. The low hum of energy could be emanating from the broad spectrum light hanging overhead. Or maybe the heat lamp. Or the water filter. It’s at least definitely not from the salamander he can spot sleeping in the corner.

“What- how— _Barry_ ,” he ends up groaning, bringing a hand up to massage his temples. He gives up cleaning.

So he’s ready and waiting in the armchair in the living room when his two kids come home from school that day. As soon as the front door swings open, Barry’s darting inside and making a beeline for the steps, but Joe calls out, “Whoa there, son. You and I need to have a little discussion.”

Iris looks both confused but apprehensive for Barry’s sake, which points to her being none the wiser about this whole thing. He’ll still need to question her later, but for now he gestures for her to head for her room. Barry, on the other hand, makes his slow way over to the couch like he’s got a pretty good idea where this is headed.

“Hey, Joe,” comes the nervous greeting. “Um, what’s up?”

“What’s up is what’s upstairs in your room,” he cuts to the chase. Barry winces. “What did I say about the lizards?”

“Salamanders only look like lizards, Joe, but they’re actually amphib—”

“What did I say?”

Now the kid’s looking at his toes. “You said I couldn’t have one.”

“So where’d you get the salamander?”

“I found it by the creek.”

“And where’d you get all the rest of it? _Barry_ ,” he prompts when the boy cringes and doesn’t immediately answer.

Barry sounds very small and scared as he finally admits, “I borrowed it from the school labs.”

Joe has to squeeze his eyes shut for a long moment. Then he rises from the chair to loom over the kid. “You mean you stole it from the school.”

“I was gonna take it all back, I swear!” Barry risks a look up. “Once I saved up enough allowance to buy my own—”

“I don’t care how long you were gonna keep it, ok? You took that stuff without permission— _that is stealing_. I do not condone stealing of any kind while I’m on my _job_ , Barry, and I’m definitely not going to allow it in my _home_. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y- yes, Joe,” Barry chokes out. He’s more than cowed; he’s terrified, shaking like a leaf and his eyes are starting to brim with tears. “I- I’m s-sorry. Please don’t- please don’t be mad.”

He lets out a breath through his nose, crouches down to the kid’s level. “I’m not mad, Barry. Alright? Look at me,” he urges, taking a hold of the boy’s shoulders. “I’m not mad. I am disappointed. You know what you did was wrong.”

Barry nods, then makes to wipe and his eyes and nose with the back of his sleeve. Joe grabs up a tissue and presses it into his hands instead. “What am I g-gonna do?”

“Well first off, you’re grounded,” he tells him, and he thinks they both knew that was a given. “You’ll be doing both your and Iris’ chores for a month. Tomorrow, you’re going to put that little creature back where you found it,” he instructs. Barry’s face falls, but he doesn’t say anything. “It was born in the wild, Barry. It belongs there, not locked up,” he attempts to soften that blow. Particularly considering what has to be said next. “Then you’re going to pack all that stuff up and take it back to the school—and you’re going to tell your teacher what you did and apologize. She can decide what happens from there.”

Barry’s lip trembles, but again he stays silent, accepting his punishment it seems. He really was raised well. Joe’s hoping this tough lesson will eventually continue that trend.

“Ok, come here,” he says at last, opening his arms. Barry’s clinging to him desperately now, a couple more gasped sobs and sniffles escaping him. He holds him there for a long while, then sends him upstairs to get started dismantling the salamander habitat he’d so carefully constructed.

Iris, it turns out, is none the wiser about the whole thing, and though she perks up a little at being told she has no chores for the next month, she casts a sympathetic look to Barry’s room across the hall. He gives it a week before she starts trying to help her friend out with them again.

What none of them have any control over is the month of detentions Barry is given by his teacher in punishment as well. Not a great thing to have on record within the first month of middle school, and privately Joe thanks the heavens colleges only look at the high school transcripts. Better his kids be screw-ups when they’re young.

Being twelve, Barry handles the whole thing fairly well. He manages to be on time for each detention, at the least, and at home he does the chores without complaint and stays in even on weekends when Iris goes out to the shops with friends. He’s quieter, but that’s to be expected.

What Joe isn’t expecting, and what he can’t seem to stop thinking about, is this new nightly ritual they have. He’ll poke his head into Barry’s room a bit before his curfew each evening to find the boy sitting and staring glumly at his now cleared desk. Specifically, the space where the aquarium tank had sat.

“Bear, bedtime.”

Barry’ll look up, then scramble out of his chair and under his covers. “Ok, Joe.”

He’ll flick the lights off but it does little to banish that longing, heartbroken look on his son’s face.

Joe doesn’t really realize how much he’s dwelling on that look until two weeks after all of Barry’s punishments have ended; he and Fred are chatting in the squad car on the way back from patrol, just catching up on each other’s lives and their kids. His partner’s at the wheel, which is a decision he starts to question when the man makes a wrong turn. “Hey Chyre, precinct’s that way,” he points out.

“Yeah, maybe later Joe,” the other man dismisses, pulling up to the curb outside a few stores. “Just promise me you’ll stop in there next chance you got? If I have to listen to you talk about the poor kid and his pets one more time I think I’ll go nuts.” He’s nodded to what is clearly a pet shop.

“I can’t just go home with some animal on the fly, Fred,” he defends weakly. “He’s got to be ready to take care of one.” Which, admittedly, Barry had more than proved his capability in rigging the habitat for the salamander.

“So say it’s for Christmas.”

“His birthday’s coming up first,” Joe can’t help musing. Fred just shrugs, like it hardly matters either way.

When Barry’s birthday does at last roll around, there’s a clear theme. The cake’s got little icing snakes. Grandma Esther has sent bedsheets and a comforter with matching lizard patterns printed all over them. Iris practically shoves an iguana plush toy into the kid’s arms, having been too excited to wrap it. Barry’s already beaming with joy before Joe turns to him and says, “You got one more present in your room. Go on.”

Confused, but nevertheless eager to find out what said present is, Barry races up the steps. Joe follows at a more sedate pace, but knows the instant the gift’s been seen by the loud gasp.

“No way. No way, no way, no way!” Barry’s standing in his doorway, gaping at the newly installed aquarium tank. Inside a little habitat helpfully crafted by the shopkeeper Joe had talked to, sits a turtle.

“You’ll have to wait a few weeks to pick him up and hold him if you need some solid proof,” he remarks, unable to hide some amusement and the boy’s dumbfounded state. “And don’t put your fingers near his mouth.”

It’s like the words break whatever spell of stillness had fallen over his kid, for in the next instant Barry is at the glass case, barely refraining from pressing his nose to the glass. Then he turns to Joe with wide eyes. “Why?”

He considers for a moment. “Seemed to me since you handled your punishments so responsibly, you’d earned it. But listen, you got to promise me you’re going to keep being responsible. That tanks gotta be cleaned regularly, you have to set up a feeding schedule for it, and you gotta spend time with it once it gets used to you.”

Barry’s nodding vigorously along to each stipulation he gives. “I can do all those things, promise!”

“Well good, cause he’s all yours.”

He could almost believe that his son will never stop smiling after this what with the ecstatic grin he fixes Joe with. Then the kid bounds over and throws his arms around him. “Thank you!”

He smiles warmly with a chuckle and ruffles the kid’s hair before hugging him back. “Don’t need it.”


End file.
